


The Big Bad Woodsman

by RinBob2410



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 1950s, Awkward Romance, Boggarts, F/M, Latin, Magical Violence, Minor Original Character(s), Naive character, Pre-Relationship, Romance, cause apparently that's a tag, little red riding hood elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-05
Updated: 2019-09-05
Packaged: 2020-10-10 08:27:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20524976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RinBob2410/pseuds/RinBob2410
Summary: "Hope Howell, a beautiful Muggle girl who worked in an insurance office in Cardiff, had taken an ill-advised walk through what she believed to be innocent woodland." --Pottermore





	The Big Bad Woodsman

**Author's Note:**

> Lol writing for harry potter is nice cause there's a tag for everything. Also I loved writing Hope. Remus' bio really emphasizes how imaginative she is, so I really went with that. She also sounded a bit naive cause she went on the "ill-advised" walk, so I kinda ran with that too.
> 
> Also fair warning: Idk British nor 50s slang all too well, but I tried my best with some research I did. It probably doesn't sound right.

“That sounds like a terrible idea,” Emily responded. She’s always been a bit of a candyass when it comes to fun things like this.

“Ah, stop worrying! It’s just a little walk,” I say, fixing the belt around my skirt.

“Hope, your ‘little walks’ normally go on for hours into the night. Which is normally alright, I guess, but this is the _dark woods_ we’re talking about here!”

“Exactly. The woods, with countless of plants. I even bought a plant identifying book!”

She raises her eyebrows from her glare, and twists her mouth in confusion. “Why in the world would you do that?”

“So I can learn the scientific names and get some Latin practice. I’m already behind in my studies…” I mean, it’s not like I’m taking a class, but I take my self-paced studies very seriously.

“Oh you and your stupid Latin! It’s a dead language Hope! Your going to get eaten by a wolf, I guarantee it!”

“Oh please, there haven’t been wolves in this area for centuries.”

“That doesn’t mean you should be going out there! I bet a fox could eat your face instead!” I roll my eyes at her hysterics.

“Oh calm down Emily… Look, I promise I’ll be home before sundown. The sun sets in about three hours anyway.That’s a long ways away! I’ll be fine!”

She glares at me, but I pay no mind. Instead I pack my satchel with my book, my Latin journal, a pencil, and my house keys. Emily sighs loudly, her arms are still crossed, but she’s at least dropped her evil eye.

“...At least take your coat with you.”

“Fine, _Mom,_” I groan. Despite it, I still smile at her. She only wants the best for me, and I find that sweet. “I’ll grab my coat.”

I open the door and walk out from the small apartment, breathing in the fresh air. There’s nothing more refreshing than a peaceful walk after a hard day’s work. Especially if that work involves being trapped inside an insurance building in the smallest cubicle imaginable. It’s always boring there, nothing ever happens. My coworkers never smile, my boss always drones on about the most boring topics, my face feels numb as I spend hours typing numbers into a black screen with the most appalling green text. It makes me regret ever deciding to join financing. At least in marketing sector you get to work with people, and you have to think about how best to sell insurance to customers. I always feels as if the gray of the carpeting and the white of the walls of the office will haunt me forever, even when I can finally find my way away from this boring job. But even if I could leave, I’ll just be placed in another boring job. Nothing ever changes in reality. It’s so empty and bland compared to the outside world. I can already feel my heart becoming stone just thinking about it.

So sometimes I just need to go outside, spin around a few times until I’m dizzy, let my hair down and take my shoes off, stare at clouds and smile at the sunshine… I just need to let my heart sing!

I giggle because now I can’t help but get an earworm stuck in my head.

I walk faster down the pavement, humming ‘Love Is a Many-Splendored Thing’ from one of my favorite movies of the same title, excited now to reach the woods. I come off the walkway, and onto a little trail leading into the forest. I’ve only been through the forest a few times with company. It’ll be a new adventure for me. And who knows! Maybe I’ll even find a place to read and dance without bother. Everyone I know tells me that I shouldn’t go into the forest alone; that dangerous things could attack me here. But, they think what I find fun is childish, so they can bugger off and let me enjoy myself.

I observe all the little things around me, though it’s a bit hard in the dim light the trees create against the sun. Leaves on the edge grow light green and transparent in the sun. One leaf even has a caterpillar resting on it, it’s silhouette eating underneath the leaf. Around me plants grow to bush height, though many I wouldn’t exactly call them bushes. What even defines a bush anyway? Do they have to be filled with leaves, or can it be these random assortment of knee length stems? Flowering “weeds” grow along the floor, painting the grass with bright colors. Ants crawl along tree bark, an occasional butterfly flutters near me. Birds chirp a random, echoing melody high and invisible in the trees. I’m absolutely awed at everything around me. I believe as a younger teen I found a field of flowers farther down the trail. I can’t help but go deeper along the path to find what this forest hides, and to see if I was right about those flowers.

But, as I go deeper, and lose sight of the city, I can’t help the nagging in my head. Not my own nagging, of course. I would never be so… unreasonable. It’s the sound of my roommate’s voice, telling me this is a stupid idea. It’s also the sound of my parents warning me about the forest when I was a kid. I remember the fairytales from teachers, the horror stories from classmates, the tall-tales from random family members… Okay, maybe I should have thought this through a bit better...

But I can’t let it bother me! No, I must quell my curiosity! It’s not everyday I get enough free time for this sort of opportunity, afterall. I am sure there are more wonders than horrors that this forest can hold, and I want to explore it all! Besides, I still need to practice my latin.

Finally I come across the small field of flowers. It’s a bit away off the trail, but from the second I could make it out, I knew I wanted nothing more than to see those flowers. I even have an entire section of my book dedicated to woodland flowers. I take a step off the path, continuously looking backwards, making sure I memorize the way back, even though the flowers are a straight walk from the trail. Okay, so maybe the nagging has made me a bit paranoid… And I feel a bit like someone’s watching me… I’m just being silly! There’s nothing I need to be afraid of!

I focus instead on the flowers around me. The ones that immediately draw my attention are some purple cup-like tall ones, all lined up like a reverse vine without a wall, pointing downwards. I skim through my book until I find a description and picture that matches.

“Foxglove. Or, Digitalis purpurea. Purple digits… Oh! Like purple fingers!” 

I continue reading in my head. Apparently in mythology they’re supposed to be the favorite flower of fairies. And they’re also poisonous for consumption. So interesting how such a pretty flower can be so deadly. I gently touch the petals of one of the foxgloves. The petals are so soft and surprisingly cold, and their color is absolutely gorgeous even if it isn’t always even from end to tip. I wonder how flowers such as these become so brightly colorful in nature. 

I turn to find another flower, and I see my favorites hidden behind the foxglove: Bluebells. With their long stalks that carry every teardrop of a flower. My mother used to tell me about all sorts of stories from ancient civilizations such as Rome and Greece. When she would tell me her version about the prince that Apollo had fallen in love with and all the happiness they shared, it was always my favorite. And every time the prince would die, and Apollo would blame himself, I would cry with him. I look up the flowers in the book.

“Bluebells. Or, Hyacinthoides non-scripta. Hyacinthoides as in Hyacinthus, the Greek prince who died.” That’s not Latin, but it’s easy enough to guess where it comes from. “Non-scripta, as in unmarked.” Probably to show that the original bluebells that came from Apollo’s tears were marked. I almost wished these flowers said “ai ai.” It’d make them that much more heartbreaking and bittersweet to look at. I read through the rest of the description: These flowers represent a beautiful and everlasting love, along with humility and gratitude. Such a complex flower. I almost pick it, but think better of it. It would be disrespectful to Apollo and Hyacinthus’s love. I hold the petals though, like I had with the foxglove. Again, the petals are soft and cold, but these petals seem a lot more delicate. Can someone’s love really be so fragile?

_\--crack--_

I get distracted from my ponderings when I suddenly hear a noise. I look towards the dark oppressive trees for any sign of something dangerous. I don’t see anything, so I turn back towards the flowers, but not my mind is quiet with my earlier swirly thoughts, and all I can hear is a silent buzzing of suspicion. Well, maybe a bit of thought is spared to the flowers’ pretty petals… (But only a bit!) There is definitely something out there, I know it! Maybe it’s just a bunny. Or maybe a deer. There’s no dangerous creatures here, so I know it can’t be anything too dangerous. The worst we’ve got in these woods are foxes and bats. I have nothing to worry about!

Unless it’s some crazy person living in the woods!

I quickly decide it’s probably best to avoid straying from the path now, so I head back on the trail. I’m not ready to come back home though. I’m a bit too stubborn to admit defeat that easily. For now I continue with my random journey into the bright green woods. Surely I can enjoy a bit more time looking at different trees and finding out about their scientific names! But, with every step deeper in, I feel more fear building up behind my chest. I really wish I didn’t have to acknowledge this silly fear, I know it’s ridiculous to be so afraid when there’s so much to explore, but that doesn’t change the fact that I’m getting pretty certain something serious is hidden behind these trees. I’m starting to remember all too well the tall-tales that my classmates used to tell me about huge men, crazy hags, and vicious beasts. I distract myself with names of insects, trees, bushes. But I fear the almost-setting sun, and the dangers it could bring. Okay, maybe it is time to start heading back…

\--_CRACK_\--

But then I hear it once again-- the cracking of a branch. I turn around so fast, prepared to see a huge burly woodsman ready to attack me.

And, to my surprise, that’s exactly what happens. It’s detail by detail exactly how I imagined him to be. Big yellow eyes, almost sharp teeth, greasy brown hair, nails dirty and crusty, his clothes in rags… He smells as if he’s been crawling through a sewer, his arms are hairy and dusty, his hair getting more razzled by the second. I can’t help but feel dizzy and paralyzed as I see the man in front of me. I freeze for a good while, too afraid and trying to process what’s happening. My brain can’t even accept that this is really happening right now. The only thing that feels real is the sound of my heart beating in my ears. But then he takes a step forward, and I realize he’s coming after me, and I get shaken out of my frozen state. 

I run. And I scream very loudly, trying to will my feet to go faster and keep steady as I try to find my way back to the end of the trail. But, the issue with focusing on your feet while running is that often times that leads to tripping, and my brain is so filled with anxious and dizzying energy that I can’t fully process what’s happened until I’m in the dirt. All I can focus on is the hideous man is still chasing me, but I’m somehow on the ground and need to protect herself. It’s too late to start running again, I can already hear the stomping footsteps only a few seconds away. I do the next best thing, and close my eyes tight, wrapping my arms around my head.

“Riddikulus!” 

I hardly registers the sweet tone of a young man’s voice.

The footsteps are near by me, but then they suddenly stop. Sure that it must be some sort of mind trick, I cover my head and squeeze my eyes until a few moments have passed. 

Finally, after a few seconds of heavy breathing and thinking my life over, I Decide to look up. TO my relief, I’m greeted by a panting, but smiling man who’s offering his hand to me. He wears a strange brown suit that hangs like a robe. It looks quite nice with his light brown hair and beautiful smile though. I can’t help but stare. He, however, is looking toward the side where the huge man should have been, but all that’s left is a few leaves and a peculiarly placed mushroom. Funny, I don’t remember that mushroom being there earlier… Then again, I probably didn’t notice it with all the running.

“It’s alright, it was only a boggart.” I don’t fully register what he said, too focused on looking back upon the incredibly handsome person who saved me. He finally turns toward me while introducing himself. “Lupin. Lyall Lupin.”

My green eyes meet his warm hazel ones in a second, and immediately Lyall’s face begins to blush. _Lyall,_ what a beautiful name. He seems to realize that he’s still holding onto my hand, and quickly pulls it back to rub the back of his neck as he avoids my gaze like a school boy with a crush. I smile at that. It’s such an endearing little gesture. It’s amazing how such a cute, shy man could manage scaring away such a nasty person. I can’t help the dorky thing I say next when I think back to his name and realize it has Latin origins.

“Lupin. Lupin as in wolf-like...” He looks confused at my statement, so I try to laugh and end up blushing too, realizing I’ve just made this conversation very awkward. I have to try to remedy this. “I’m Hope Howell, nice to meet you.”

“Youhaveverygreeneyes!” He says brisk and stiffly, blushing fierce while he realizes what he just said. He’s clearly no better when it comes to social grace. Probably even worse, to my amusement. I can’t help but giggle at that, feeling more comforted knowing that I’m not alone in my weirdness.

“The better to see you with, my dear. This tale is a bit mixed, isn’t it?” I giggle again at my own joke, but once again, Lyall looks at me confused. “You know, like Little Red Riding Hood?” He continues to look confused. “You’ve never heard of Little Red Riding Hood?!”

What an interesting man. He wears such interesting clothes, can scare away a nasty beast of a man in a blink of an eye, and he’s never heard of Little Red Riding Hood. I feel like this man has a whole world of interesting things to show me. Is he foreign? He doesn’t sound very foreign, but that could just mean he’s fluent in English. Nobody in my life is interesting like this though, and I’m desperate for any way out of my boring life with my boring loved ones and my boring job in a boring little city. I want nothing more than to explore everything he knows, all while he guides me, holding my hand and looking at me with those adorably pink cheeks.

So I walk along the path with him, explaining the tale of Little Red Riding Hood, after I insist for him to escort me just in case anymore ‘woodsman’ decide to attack me again. Afterall, I feel that no harm will ever come my way with Lyall Lupin right next to me.

**Author's Note:**

> My sister gave me the idea while she was beta reading my last story when I told her what the names Lyall and Lupin mean. And Hope legit met a man named wolf in the middle of the woods after going on an ill advised journey and getting attacked by some random woodsman. Idk if J.K.Rowling did that on purpose and maybe I was oblivious about smth everyone already knew, but I had to write a story about it.


End file.
